Under Texas Skies
by boswifedeb
Summary: Storms bring about a myriad of problems, some of which are deadly. While dealing with the aftermath of one such storm, Matt has a sudden breakthrough on the problem of the hit that is out on him. But revelations by CJ bring alarming information to light. Rated T for language and situations. **Immediately follows "Final Call"**
1. Chapter 1

**Under Texas Skies**

" _ **Grief is in two parts. The first is loss. The second is the remaking of life."**_

 _ **Anne Roiphe**_

 **01 - Power Struggle**

"Our top story tonight: violence explodes once again just over the border in Nuevo Laredo. Correspondent Ciro Rubio brings us the latest."

"Eric, reports of recent unrest within the ranks of the notorious gang Las Serpientes appear to have finally reached a violent peak today. Sources tell us that long time leader Fernando Mendoza has been found executed along with two of his lieutenants near his palatial home just outside of Nuevo Laredo. One source reports that the sixty one year old was beheaded and his body badly mutilated. At this time neither the Eastern Cartel nor the Pacific Cartel have commented on the deaths and local officials have requested help from the Mexican authorities to help maintain control during what is feared to be a tumultuous struggle for power within the state of Tamaulipas. Mendoza has been the undisputed leader of Las Serpientes for forty years and is credited with being one of the founding members of the gang, notorious not only for being the number one supplier of illegal drugs to the US, but also for human smuggling. In recent months there have been hints that Fernando Mendoza's son Diego Mendoza was assuming some of his father's duties. Now it appears that he may be fully in control of Las Serpientes."

Matt Houston clicked off the TV, removed his feet from the desktop and stood up, the lack of pain in his back still somewhat of a surprise to him even after his three months of recuperation. The surgery to have a bone fragment removed that had unknowingly been in his body since 2003 had been a complete success and he was now medically cleared back to duty with the Harris County Sheriff's Office as a Detective Sergeant. During the time that he had been going through therapy, he had also been working on a couple of other projects, one of which was trying to figure out exactly who all the players were who had gone into cahoots to put out a contract on him. The affair was being handled by Albanian businessman Vasil Barkowski in Los Angeles - someone whom Matt had never even laid eyes on or had any contact with whatsoever. Through a lot of hard work Matt and CJ along with Michael Hoyt, Roy Houston, George McSwain, and Chuck Wylie, had been able to determine that Texas businessman Donovan Biggs Lynch was among those hoping to see him dead. Lynch had a long history of dirty dealings and with the help of private investigator McSwain they had proof of several of his misdeeds since the introduction of some of Matt's "critters" as he liked to call the BugBytes line of spy gear that he had helped design a few years earlier.

As a result of Detective Chuck Wylie's hard work to find the hitman who had attempted to run Matt - his best friend of thirty five years - off of the FM1960 bridge over Lake Houston, they now knew that pornographer Philippe LaSalle was also involved with the contract.

Houston paced around the study. Ever since they had learned that the Albanian had made calls not just to Lynch and LaSalle, he had been trying to determine if in fact the Mexican gang Las Serpientes was also connected since one of the calls had been made to Mexico. It seemed that someone had brought the disgruntled so-called businessmen together in an effort to take him out, and Matt still wasn't clear on just who had started the ball rolling.

What was clear was that he was walking a very fine line: the illegal use of the critters in the home of Lynch was something that he couldn't disclose to the authorities. Fortunately, McSwain had persuaded the maid of the Texas estate to help them out. She could give testimony implicating her current boss when the time came. If he hadn't needed the security of knowing what Lynch was up to, Matt would have had the critters removed.

Glancing at his watch, he decided that he had best call it a night. He was scheduled to qualify on the Sheriff's Office gun range the following morning and had spent the better part of the day practicing.

The house was quiet as he made his way upstairs to the bedroom, stopping to check on Catey Rose and her brothers Vinny and Mike. As usual the half Husky-half Blue Heeler Chantilly was lying in the nursery between the beds of the twin boys who were both fast asleep. "Thanks for taking care of them for me, Tilly." He gave the dog a pat on the head before leaving the room and going into his own where CJ was stretched across the bed reading.

"Did you finally decide to call it a night?" Rolling over she marked her place in the book and placed it on the bedside table.

"Yeah, just catching up on the news a little bit." He sat down on the bed and began removing his boots.

"Did you see the piece about Las Serpientes?"

"Uh huh." He didn't say anything else before heading to the shower and she watched him go, wondering if in fact the brutal Mexican gang was part of the hit that was out on him. The last three months had been tense for the family, but with the upgrades in security for not only the Houston ranch but the Rockin' PH as well as the California ranch, they were as secure as they could possibly get. Now that he would be resuming his duties with the sheriff, LAPD, and returning to Quantico for the final stages of his project for the military she was beginning to worry once again. It had been comforting to have him at the ranch for his recovery and she had begun to relax, not thinking about security every second of every day. Now she wouldn't have that luxury. At least when he was working at Quantico it wouldn't be a problem - as long as he was on base.

While the security upgrades had been in progress Vince Novelli had been staying with them as had Matt's cousin Will, making her feel even safer. They were both back at home as was Roy and over the last few days the fear had come creeping back to her.

She got up and went to the window that looked out over the back of the estate. During daylight hours the view was spectacular: the back lawn with the new playground that Matt and their children had designed and built was there, then it gently sloped down to the bunkhouse and barn, to the beginnings of the pastures that held what Matt referred to as their retirement plan. He along with the carefully selected crew of cowboys had established two herds of cattle that had quickly become a great source of income, much more quickly than they had imagined. He referred to the people working there as the "best damn crew in the state of Texas", but after what they had gone through over the last few months CJ considered them the best in the world. Each man had stepped up to help with security when they were informed of the contract on their beloved Boss Man as they called him.

Her mind was suddenly taken away from those thoughts as a strong pair of arms encircled her waist before he began kissing her neck and then led her to their bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**02- Qualifying**

The buzzer sounded and Matt gave a satisfied smile as he returned to the building that housed the gun range. He didn't know his exact score just yet, but did know that he had done better than in his practice the previous week. While waiting, he sat down at one of the nearby tables and quickly broke down the Glock and began cleaning it. A familiar voice drifted in his direction.

"I think you might have broken a couple of department records, Sergeant." Harris County Sheriff Francine Martinez had a seat across from him. "You could have done a little worse than me - kinda makes the boss look bad."

"No, ma'am. You did a great job." Martinez had run through the course right before him.

Lowering her voice where no one else could hear she nodded. "No question about it. That back surgery sure was a success." He smiled and went back to work on the pistol. "So CJ tells me that you'll be heading to Quantico tomorrow."

"Uh huh. Hopefully it will be the last time - at least for quite a while."

"Then what?"

"Well…" He started reassembling the device. "I've got that little ole problem that needs to be solved. Guess maybe a trip to LA might be next on my list and see if I can get anything done on that end." He used the term that had been adopted for the contract that was out on him. "And then there's Buck."

Buck was the offspring of two of Matt's horses, Jasper and Cricket, that lived at the California ranch. With everything that had been going on over the last few months the training that he had planned for the young stallion had come to a screeching halt. His hands out in California had begun having problems with the buckskin and the solution seemed to be moving the horse down to the Rockin' PH. He and CJ had already planned to have him become part of the breeding program there. Now it appeared that he would also be the first horse to be trained at the new facility. As bad as he wanted to do the training himself, time wasn't a luxury for Matt and he knew that CJ and her foreman Ben Devereux would do a wonderful job.

She snickered. "Going to fly him down on your jet and give him a good talking to?"

"Don't think that would work too well. Maybe he needs a good road trip to get him thinkin' straight."

"Sometimes we all need a good road trip." She stood. "Time for me to get back to work. Good luck and let me know if you need anything."

Range Master Eric Barthoff approached. "Houston, are you bucking to get my job?" He handed over a sheet of paper to Martinez whose eyes grew larger as she read the results before giving it to Matt.

"Congratulations."

He took it and was just as surprised as the other two: he had made a perfect score in every category. "Hope a certain somebody doesn't find out about this - she'll swear it was rigged." He was referring to reporter Tamara Placer, the correspondent for CNZ who constantly tried to find ways to discredit him and cause problems.

"Hell, if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes I would wonder. Way to go, man." Barthoff shook his hand and left.

"Keep me posted." Martinez left and Houston finished reassembling the pistol, then reloaded, and placed it in his holster.

Before exiting the building he checked the area for signs of anything out of the ordinary, something that he did constantly nowadays knowing that there was a hit out on him. It had been three months since the capture of Besnik Dibra and he wasn't dumb enough to believe that there wouldn't be more attempts on his life. Although, he thought to himself as he got behind the wheel of the department Suburban, Dibra had done an even worse job than the one in LA.

The trip east on FM 1960 was quick and as he passed the entrance to the ranch everything looked peaceful. He had one more stop to make before going home: the little barbershop in Crosby. His hair had to be cut and the beard shaved off before he got to Quantico the following day.

He pulled into the gravel parking lot of the small shop and headed inside, a chorus of welcomes meeting his ears and bringing a smile to his face. Some things just never changed.


	3. Chapter 3

**03 - Quantico**

Quickly and quietly, the six man team moved into position just outside the door of their target, the tallest standing to the left of the doorframe nodding to the man opposite him. In a fraction of a second, a third man hit the door right next to the knob with a battering ram causing the wood to splinter and the entire housing to crash inward as shouts went up in Arabic for everyone to hit the floor. Two of the men inside raised rifles and were immediately taken down by two of the team while the others began the task of clearing the apartment. In less than two minutes the task was accomplished and a buzzer sounded. Everyone involved, including the prisoners, relaxed and began to exit the simulator.

The tall man spoke with a Texas drawl. "So do you believe me now, Derwin?" Houston shifted the assault rifle over his shoulder and removed the helmet from his head.

A shorter man awkwardly took off his helmet nearly dropping his rifle in the process. "I just didn't think it was that...that..-"

"It looks easy from up in the booth. But when you're bundled up with all the weight of the gear, it ain't a cakewalk is it?"

"No. I'm sorry that I didn't understand before."

"And you've got to remember - this was just one run through of one scenario on a very small target with very limited firepower. These folks have to do this repeatedly. And when you factor in the heat…"

Derwin Dunlap nodded, reminding Matt of a bobblehead doll. "You were absolutely right. I will never try to interfere with it again."

"Good. Sometimes you just can't understand until you've been there yourself." After spending the last three weeks working through a few areas of disagreement with his business partner, Matt had finally been able to convince him to do a run-through in full combat gear.

"Captain, you've received a couple of calls, sir." A sergeant approached Houston holding up his phone.

"Thanks, Gutierrez." A worried look crossed his face. "'Scuse me, bud. I need to return this." Stepping outside the building where it wasn't quite as loud he punched a button calling the cellphone of the Houston family's nanny Sheila Wentworth. She knew that he was supposed to be unavailable so for her to have attempted to contact him raised his suspicions. The call was answered by a concerned sounding woman. "Sheila, everything alright?"

"No." Trying her best to sound calm, the nanny moved out of earshot of the children. "CJ's been taken to the hospital."

"What?" He felt a jolt of fear go through him.

"She was over at the PH with Ben when the first round of storms started about an hour ago. They were about to leave when she realized that she had left her phone in the arena. Just after she got inside the winds hit and-"

"Is she okay?" Matt felt his hands begin to shake.

"She was unconscious when the ambulance came. Ben called me over there and I stayed with her until the EMTs got there, but with Madre Rosa out of town…"

"Where is she?" He began heading back toward the building, running right into three of the Marines that he had just gone through the simulator with, causing them to be knocked off balance.

"Hermann Memorial."

"I'll be there as soon as I can." He disconnected the call and returned to the group that had just run through the exercise. "Derwin, I've gotta go."

"But we've just-"

"CJ's been hurt." He began pulling off body armor and throwing it onto a nearby table. "Gutierrez!"

The young sergeant immediately came to him. "Sir?"

"I need you to take me to Dulles - ASAP."

"Yes, sir."

Dunlap watched as Matt finished removing the gear. "Houston, let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks." Picking up the bag that he had brought in with him that morning, Matt turned and hurried out of the building and climbed into the Jeep that had been assigned to him, pulling out his cell phone and arranging to have his jet ready to go as soon as he got there. Trying to calm down he took a deep breath. "Sorry to yell at you. My wife's been taken to the hospital."

"I'm sorry, sir."

After arriving at the airport he thanked the Marine, moving quickly to the area where the jet was being refueled, and irritated at the fact that the job wasn't yet done. As rain began to fall he began his preflight inspection and cursed at the length of time that he had to wait to take off. Once finally in the air he called Sheila's phone but got no answer. After two more tries to connect to the landline at the ranch, he attempted to call Ben with the same results. Pulling up the radar for Houston he understood why: severe storms were lashing the area. "Great. Not what I need right now." Silently he berated himself for not getting more information from Sheila while on the phone. She had said that CJ was unconscious. Did she have a head injury?

He looked for the number of the hospital on his phone and placed a call: nothing. "Damn it!" Now besides worrying about how badly she might be injured he was concerned about whether the hospital and the ranch had been badly damaged and if the kids were safe. Not long after entering the airspace over Tennessee he ran into turbulence from the leading edge of the storm system that was sweeping from Iowa all the way down into Texas, requiring him to use every bit of concentration and skill to keep the plane flying safely.


	4. Chapter 4

**04 - Storms of Life**

"Ben?" Matt had just rushed in and found Ben Devereaux standing in the waiting room of the ER at Hermann Memorial where CJ had arrived by ambulance over three hours earlier. "Any word?"

"The doc should be here pretty soon."

"Why in the hell isn't he here now?"

"She's supposed to be looking at some of the test results."

"So what are they saying?"

"Nothing yet."

"It's been over three damn hours! How can they not know something by now?" He looked around the bustling area. "Where is she?"

"They don't want-"

"I don't care what they want." He started up to the door leading back to the treatment rooms, the foreman going after him.

A voice met him as he reached the closed door. "And I'll just bet you're Mr. Houston." He stopped and looked in her direction, his eyes landing on a woman about five feet tall with long black hair, an olive complexion, and a hint of an attitude.

"I am. Where's my wife?"

"Let's go in here and talk first."

Reluctantly he followed along, Ben in his wake. "So how is she?"

In a terse tone the doctor replied. "She's going to be fine. So just settle down and have a seat." Pointing to a chair in the small consultation room she took another. After he was seated, she introduced herself. "I'm Dr. Marissa Ogilvy." There was a pause as she opened up a chart. "Mr. Houston, your wife sustained a concussion and a broken fibula."

"But she's going to be okay, right?"

"She will. We've run a CT scan to check for any signs of trauma from the blow to her head and it came back just fine. Right now they are setting her fracture and placing her in a cast."

"Can I see her?"

"Not at the moment."

"When?"

Ogilvy paused again. "There's one more thing: she also sustained a blow to the abdomen. She's suffered a miscarriage."

Matt froze.

"From your reaction I'm going to assume that you didn't know about the pregnancy."

His voice was very quiet. "No."

"I'm sorry. Thankfully she wasn't very far along - only about four weeks from my best estimation."

"Does she know?"

"No. She regained consciousness about half an hour ago and is a little groggy."

He nodded. Ben noticed relief on his face but there was also sadness. Placing a hand on Matt's shoulder he spoke. "She's gonna be okay, Boss Man."

Nodding again, Matt drew in a deep breath and looked up as there was a knock on the door. A nurse stuck her head in and spoke to Dr. Ogilvy. "We've got a room set up for Mrs. Houston now, Doctor."

"Would you please take her husband up to wait on her there?"

"Yes, ma'am." She held the door open for them.

Matt extended his hand to the doctor. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Ben noticed that her tone had changed slightly in the last couple of minutes. He couldn't understand why she had been so short with Houston: she had been nothing but nice to him since he had arrived with CJ in the ambulance.

In the elevator, the nurse gave Matt a reassuring smile. "She's doing fine, Mr. Houston. And Dr. Ogilvy is one of the best doctors we have on staff."

As they waited in the room, Matt opened the blinds and looked out through the window. The storm, although still strong, seemed to have lessened since he had exited the cab at the emergency entrance. The ride from the airport had been a tough one and he had given the driver $500, not even waiting to hear what the fare was. He turned back to face the foreman of CJ's ranch.

"So what happened? Sheila said that she went back into the arena for her phone?"

"We had to go meet the building inspector and he took forever and a damn day to get finished. CJ had called Sheila to tell her that we would be back in just a few minutes and laid her phone down on top of one of the rails while she was straightening up the papers from the inspection. About the time we got out to the truck she remembered it and went back in. And that's when the straight line winds hit. It took out that great big old oak closest to the arena and it hit the light pole and then both of them landed on the east side of the roof. I went in after her and found her underneath part of the roof. Looked like one of the beams had hit her head and her belly. Her leg was stuck underneath."

"Thanks."

Trying to lighten the mood a little he gave the man a grin. "Hey, she's my boss - I had to take care of her or risk getting fired, right?"

Smiling sadly, Matt replied. "Don't think that's something that you'll have to worry about."

"I'm sorry about the baby." The foreman watched as the man nodded and swallowed hard. "It happened to Marcy and me once."

"Thanks." He turned back to the window, watching as the wind driven rain fell in sheets but not really seeing any of it. He was thinking about the day he had left headed to Quantico. Although they had been trying for another baby, neither thought that she might be pregnant then. As bad as it was he realized that Dr. Ogilvy had been right: it was a good thing that she wasn't further along than four weeks. It would be easier on her physically. Now he wondered how she would feel when she found out.

 _Meanwhile just outside of Plano…_

"Damn it, Zeke!" Donovan Biggs Lynch hefted his frame out of the leather desk chair and stood with his hands on the desk, leaning over looking at the foreman of his ranch. "How many times do I have to tell you not to hire these lame-brained boys?"

"Terrell isn't la-"

"So what do you call getting chased onto _my_ property by the cops?"

"He was drunk."

"Well, then that's just fine." The sarcasm came through loud and clear in his voice. Shaking his head, he turned to look out the window as the rain continued to pour down, lightning strikes giving the greenish-black sky an eerie glow. "He was drunk so that makes everything okay, doesn't it?" There was no reply from the foreman and Lynch turned back around to face him. "I _do not_ want the cops anywhere near this ranch. For a little bit more last night they could have found those girls."

"It won't happen again."

"Damn right it won't happen again." The portly man picked one of the Cuban cigars out of the desktop humidor and began toasting it, staring angrily at Zeke Varley as he began drawing on it. After exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air he spoke again. "I want him gone."

Varley stood. "I'll give him his walkin' papers."

"Not that kind of gone."

The foreman stopped in his tracks, turning to look at his boss. "He doesn't know anything about-"

"Do we know that for sure?"

Varley stared at him in shock.

"So take care of him. I want him bailed out of jail and then take care of him."

"But-  
"No buts, Zeke." He watched as the foreman turned and quietly left the study. He sat back down behind the desk, puffing on the cigar as his mind went back to the night before when Terrell Snyder had been running from the police. Not only was he drunk, he was driving one of the ranch trucks when an officer attempted to pull him over. Instead of dealing with the consequences he had chosen to try to outrun the cop and plowed through one of the gates on the south side of the property. Lynch had been made aware of the situation by one of the officers who called in from the main security gate. It was too damn close.

Swiveling around he looked out into the gloomy afternoon and thought about the human livestock in the barn. That was all in the world they amounted to - at least to him. It had seemed like an easy way to stave off some of the boredom and a lot cheaper and safer than having to bring in hookers. Nobody would miss any of the girls: they were all from China. And really, why should it matter what he did with them? They were in the country illegally. To him they gave up any rights they might have had when they set foot on American soil without the proper documentation. They had gambled and lost.

Turning back to the desk he dislodged some of the accumulated ash on the end of the Cuban as he turned his thoughts to Zeke. Zeke's dad Zane had been the ranch foreman up until fifteen years previously when he had been struck dead of a heart attack out in one of the hayfields. The younger Varley had grown up helping out on the ranch and after the passing of his father, Donovan had offered the job to him. Up until the last few months he had never had any complaints about the foreman. But after the incident about three months earlier when the man had shifted the job of getting rid of the body of one of the Chinese girls to a fairly new ranch hand things had seemed to change. The young cowboy had nearly been pulled over by police in Dallas with the body in the back of a pickup and had dumped her in the downtown area. Lynch had ordered Varley to kill the hand and dispose of the body himself.

He heaved up out of the chair and waddled over to pour himself a drink, dropping three ice cubes into the glass before pouring the Kentucky bourbon over top. He then went back to the window and took a sip, the icy chill turning into waves of warmth as it went down. Maybe he needed to replace Zeke. And maybe he needed to get rid of the girls. Lightning struck one of the trees in a nearby pasture and he watched as a huge limb fell to the ground. He drew on the cigar again and thought about how to deal with both of his problems.


	5. Chapter 5

**05 - Reunion**

"Hey, beautiful." Matt was relieved when CJ finally opened her eyes. He had been sitting holding her hand since the nurses had wheeled her into the room over an hour earlier.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Quantico."

"Well, it seems that you had part of the arena to collapse on you. Do you remember what happened?"

Groggily, she rubbed at her eyes. "I left my phone."

"Uh huh. Ben said you went back in for it. Straight line winds hit the old oak on the east side and it took the light pole down with it onto the roof. He went in and found you."

"I've got a headache."

"Don't doubt it. You've got a concussion - and a broken leg. Guess you know what this means, doncha?"

"What?"

"Catey is going to preach at you about getting a boo boo." He gave her a smile. She laughed, then grimaced.

"Don't make me laugh. My head might explode." She closed her eyes for a minute. "I'm sorry you got called away."

"I'm not. I think Derwin is finally straightened out. Don't believe we're going to have any more problems."

"What did you do to him?" Opening her eyes she noticed now that he looked tired.

"Oh, let's just say that he got some practical on the job training." There was a chuckle.

"You need to go home and get some sleep."

"Nope. I'm your roomie."

"But with Madre Rosa gone Sheila is going to need some help."

"Miss Marcy is going to be there. She helped out this afternoon. Besides Ben called me earlier and said that a few trees blew down and took out about half of the roof on their house. They're staying at the ranch anyway."

"I've really made a mess out of everything."

"Hush. You didn't do anything. It was the wind." He watched as she closed her eyes again. A grimace crossed her face once again and she reached down and rubbed her belly before her eyes flew open.

"Oh, my God…" She looked panic stricken. "I need to talk to the doctor - I took a pregnancy test this morning and it…" Matt's face gave him away. "Hon?"

He looked down at her hand, trying to find the right words and shook his head. "It's gone, Babe." Looking back up into her eyes he saw as the panic turned into hurt. She burst into tears. "Easy now. Shhhh…" He dropped the rail on the bed and sat down next to her, pulling her into his arms as an anguished sob escaped from her. "It's going to be alright."

"It's all my fault!" She was shaking violently.

"No, it isn't. Things like this happen sometimes."

"I'm sorry."

"Shhh. You don't have anything to be sorry about." He gently rocked her, rubbing her back. A nurse came in and looked disapprovingly at the pair.

"It's against hospital regulations for anyone other than the patient to be in the bed, Mr. Houston."

"If you could give us a minute I would appreciate it."

"I'm sorry, but it isn't allowed. If you can't follow protocol-"

CJ began to try to pull herself together. "I'm okay, hon." She wiped her eyes. "Would you hand me a tissue, please?" He got off of the bed and handed the box to her, giving the nurse a furious look. She ignored him as she began checking CJ's vital signs and fiddling with the IV before sharply replacing the bedrail.

"Visiting hours will be ending in just a few minutes."

"I'm staying." The piercing look he gave her seemed to cool her off slightly. After giving CJ her meds she silently walked out of the door. "Old battleaxe."

"Hon, you can go on home."

"Nope. I'm staying right here with you."

"I'll be okay."

"Uh huh. I know you will." He moved the reclining chair over next to the bed and stripped off the BDU shirt.

"I'd almost forgotten how good you look in uniform." She gave him a quavering smile. "Of course it's the wrong branch. What would the Army say if they saw you in Marine gear?"

"Doesn't matter. I haven't belonged to them in twelve years." He sat down in the chair and reached through the rail, taking her hand again. "You need to get some sleep."

"So do you."

Standing once again he leaned over and gave her a kiss, gently rubbing her cheek. "Goodnight. Love you, Babe." Her arms went around his neck again and once more she began crying, her tears finally ending several minutes later when she fell asleep. He carefully eased her hands back down to her sides and tucked the blanket around her before kissing her forehead and turning out the light.

Matt awoke the following morning, CJ's hand still firmly in his. He had stayed awake until sometime after 3:00 AM. Carefully easing out of his wife's grasp, he stood and stretched before walking over to the window and peeking through the blinds. The sun was shining in an innocent, picture perfect sky as if none of the damage had been done the day before. There was a quiet knock at the door and a nurse entered. He was grateful that it wasn't the old Civil War relic that had been such an ass the night before. "Mornin'."

She spoke quietly as she smiled. "Good morning. I'm Katrina and I'll be Mrs. Houston's nurse today."

From the bed CJ spoke up. "Please just call me CJ."

"Alright." Turning her attention back to Matt she said, "There's a deputy outside that wants to talk with you."

"Thanks." He exited the door to find Chuck leaning against the counter of the nurses' station. "Hey, bud."

"Why didn't you call me? I stopped by the ranch to see if there was any storm damage on my way home last night and Sheila told me."

"I don't know. Didn't occur to me."

"How's she doing?"

"Let's take a walk." Matt gestured toward the large windows at the end of the hallway. Once there he rubbed his neck and looked out. "She's got a concussion and a broken leg."

Chuck watched him. "What else is wrong? I can tell something is up."

Sadly he nodded. "She had a miscarriage. But I would appreci-"

"I won't say a word, man. Sorry to hear that." He patted his friend on the shoulder.

"She was only about four weeks, so…" His voice drifted off.

"Thank heaven for small favors." Both stood looking out the window for a minute before Matt turned back to keep an eye on the door to the room, Chuck sensing his friend's concern. "I told Martinez this morning. There are already deputies on the way."

"Thanks." His attention was drawn to the elevator where Sheila emerged and spotting the pair, made her way down to them.

"Hey, how's she doing this morning?" She was slightly surprised when Matt pulled her into a hug.

"She just woke up. Sorry I was such a jerk on the phone yesterday."

"Honey, hush." She gave him a smile and patted his arm. "You were fine. I was worried that you would have trouble getting here what with the storms. It sure got rough. Anyway, Emilio and Pat dropped the truck off for you. Go on home and get some sleep. I'll take care of her."

"I appreciate it, hon." He looked back up the hallway to see deputy Greg Bivens exiting the elevator along with a deputy that Matt had never met and went to talk to the pair before going back to the room. Sticking his head in the door he tried for a light mood. "Are you decent?"

"As much as I can be."

"Some clown here wants to see you if you're feeling up to it." He opened the door and Chuck came in followed by Sheila.

"Hey, girl. What's the big idea of huffing and puffing and blowing the arena down?" He leaned over the rail and kissed her cheek.

"Cute."

"I know I am, but Lisa's the jealous type so just forget about it." He smiled down at her. "She says to holler at her if you need anything."

"Thanks."

"Guess I better get to work. Oh, Martinez sends her best wishes - and you've got a couple of guys guarding your door."

"Tell her I said thanks."

"I'll check back in on you later." He started for the door, looking back over his shoulder with a grin. "And save me a good space to sign your cast. I've got a nice little limerick to put on there." Everyone chuckled as he left.

"Miss Sheila's going to stay here with you for a little bit so I can go get a shower."

"And you better get some sleep."

"I slept."

"Uh huh. I know all about sleeping in a chair in a hospital room. Had to do it too many times."

Sheila put down her bag and began unnecessarily straightening her blanket. "Girl, ain't that the truth." She gave Matt a mock look of disapproval before stepping aside so that he could tell her goodbye.

He leaned down and the pair kissed, his thumb grazing her cheek. "See you later. Love you."

"Love you, too."

Before exiting the door of the hospital, Matt shifted his bag to his left shoulder and put on a pair of sunglasses as he looked around outside. Nothing seemed amiss and he went on out to reclaim the truck from the valet lot. As he drove along FM 1960 he saw quite a bit of damage had been done. He passed four crews that were cutting up downed trees before crossing over Lake Houston and turning onto Crosby-Huffman Road. There were even more trees down along the way and he saw Ben and Scott working to mend the fence line on the Rockin' PH property. After pulling in behind the house, Matt looked up to the back porch to see the three youngest of the Houston family waiting excitedly for him. They ran down the steps and nearly knocked him down.

"Easy now. Have y'all been good for Miss Marcy?"

"Uh huh. When's Mama coming home?" Catey had taken her dad's hand as they started back up the steps, Vinny and Mike rushing back up to the top where he put down his bag and had a seat on the swing, the twins jumping into his lap.

"I'm not sure just yet. The doctor will probably tell us today."

"Miss Sheila said she broke her leg." Mike had a serious look on his face.

Vinny piped up. "Bet that hurt."

"Yep." Matt leaned back. "Now when she does come home you're going to have to be careful around her. Don't jump on her." Simultaneously the group agreed and he turned his attention to Marcy Devereaux. "Thanks for helping out."

"I've been enjoying it. It's been a long time since I've taken care of little ones." She looked down at the Houston children. "How about we get your dad inside and get him some breakfast?" The three began pulling on him and babbling about what had been going on in his absence as they went through the door.


	6. Chapter 6

**06 - Vasil Barkowski**

Vasil Barkowski picked up the phone and dialed the number in Mexico.

" _Hola, amigo_."

"I haven't heard anything about our mutual friend. It would seem that he is alive and well."

"At the moment, _sí."_

"I thought that your employee was going to finish the job."

"Oh, he will. You can be sure."

"So what is the delay?"

On the other end of the call Diego Mendoza laughed. "It seems our friend was recuperating from surgery. He spent three months in therapy. But don't worry. He's just fine now. When he gets back from Virginia the job will be completed."

"Good. Other stockholders have been concerned about the amount of time it's taking."

"Patience is a virtue. I'm sure they will be happy when the dividends start rolling in."

"I want to know as soon as it's finished."

"I will be sure of it." Mendoza laughed as Barkowski ended the call.

He stood and began to pace. Three months earlier the hitman that he had hired on behalf of three clients had failed to take out their target - Matt Houston. What made it even worse was the fact that Besnik Dibra had been the second man hired for the job. Technically, he thought to himself, Dibra was the third. Viktor Kostandin had attempted to take him out twice, both times with a rifle. A crack shot he was not. But the giant of a man had other talents and although he had been upset at his failure, his usefulness won out.

Tossing the phone back onto the desk he answered the intercom. "Yes?"

"Mr. Kostandin is here, sir."

"Send him in." Barkowski poured himself a drink. "Well?"

"There doesn't seem to be any further attempts to investigate the club." The huge man stood with his hands behind his back, his hulking frame making the room seem smaller.

"And you are sure of this?" The answer was a nod. "Very well." Barkowski's mood seemed to improve and he drank about half of the vodka. "Perhaps LAPD has decided that their resources will be better used elsewhere." He gave a smirk.

Back in Texas, Matt had just finished taking a shower when his phone rang. "Hey, Sheila."

"Just wanted to let you know that the doc says that CJ can go home after 1:00."

"Well, there's some good news. I'll be there in a little bit. Does she need some clothes?"

"Bring one of her sleep shirts, some undies, and her bathrobe. Oh, and she's going to need a slipper."

"Tell her I'll be there soon as I can."

"I'll do it."

Breathing a sigh of relief, he dressed quickly and found the needed items. Jogging down the stairs he was surprised to hear the voice of his long time housekeeper. He entered the kitchen. "Madre Rosa? What are you doing back so soon?"

She turned and gave him a disgruntled look. "Why didn't you call me?"

"Well…" He once again felt like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "I really haven't had…"

" _Bazofia_. You should have called the minute you found out."

"If I told you that I'm leaving to go pick her up would it get me out of the dog house?" He gave the older lady a hug and kiss.

" _Hombre encantador…_ " Rosa tried to look disapproving but instead pinched his cheek. " _Basta! Traerla a casa_. I'll go fix the room for her."

The trip to the hospital went much quicker and he noticed that most of the downed trees had been cleared from the route and it was a beautiful day. He exited the elevator on the third floor and gave Bivens a big smile as he got to the room. "They're springing her this afternoon."

"Great news." He opened the door for the detective.

"Hey. Got your drawers." With a smile he put the bag on the foot of her bed before walking around and giving her a kiss. "Oh, and Madre Rosa is back. Thought I was gonna get a whoopin' for not calling her."

"She didn't have to come back."

"She's anxious to get you home. And so am I." He squeezed her hand.

That afternoon he went to bring the truck around and as soon as the elevator doors opened in the lobby his face fell: there with her cameraman was Tamara Placer. Cursing under his breath he moved past her as quickly as possible, pulling out his phone and calling Sheila to warn her and to have her bring CJ out through the side door. He saw Placer standing in front of the building as he got into the vehicle and made like he was leaving the property. When she went back in he quickly made his way around and met the women. "I'd like to know just who in the hell announced that you were here." There was no mistaking the anger in his voice. "That's supposed to be private."

Kristina helped Sheila put CJ's things into the backseat as Matt bent to pick her up.

"Hon, no - you might hurt yourself."

"Hush. Put your arms around my neck." He effortlessly hoisted her into the front seat and fastened the seat belt. "Kristina, thanks for your help."

"You're very welcome. And I'm going to look into the breach of privacy."

"I appreciate it." He turned his attention to Sheila. "Ready?"

"I'll meet you there."

The drive back to the ranch was uneventful and very quiet. He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze as they sat at a light. "You feelin' okay?"

"Yeah, fine." She looked out the passenger side window and he could tell that she was upset.

"It's going to be okay, Babe." She just nodded.

Back at the ranch, Matt pulled to a stop and found that Marty, Pat, Ben, and Scott were waiting on them. "Would ya look at the welcoming party?"

"Well, we figured you got the royal treatment when you were hurt so fair's fair." Marty had helped Sheila from the truck as Ben edged a wheelchair closer.

"Guys, I've got a pair of crutches."

"Well, you ain't gonna use 'em right now." Pat gave her a big grin as Houston gently moved her from the truck into the chair and propped the injured leg up.

"Alright, boys…" Marty took his place on one side of the chair. "Time for the Cleopatra treatment." They all gave a laugh as she blushed and shook her head. Waiting at the top of the steps were Madre Rosa and Marcy.

"I've got the room all set up for you. There are plenty of extra pillows for you to prop up on."

"You shouldn't have cut your visit short on my account." She hugged the housekeeper.

"Nonsense. Now let's get you settled."

Ben tapped Matt on the shoulder. "After you get her settled I need to talk to you."

"Sure thing."

A few minutes later after safely putting CJ on the bed despite her protests that she was quite capable of doing it on her own, Matt left her to the ministrations of Sheila and Rosa. He found Ben in the kitchen with Scott and poured himself a cup of coffee. "So what's up?"

"I talked to the building inspector about an hour ago. Because of what happened yesterday he's pulling the approval."

"But he already gave you a copy of the inspection." The cowboy shook his head, thoughtfully taking another sip of coffee. "Now wait a damn minute: how did he even know about it? He had already left hadn't he?"

"Yup."

"Who could have…" He stopped. "That bitch."

Scott looked between his two bosses, thoroughly confused.

"She was at the hospital when we were getting ready to leave. We had to sneak CJ out the side door."

Scott spoke up. "Who?"

"Tamara Placer." The look of hatred on his face was shocking to the younger man.

Ben raised the cap on his head, scratching. "But how could she have known?"

"The radio. She must have heard the EMTs being dispatched."

"What does it take to get a restraining order?"

"More than what she's done unfortunately." He angrily sat down at the kitchen table. "Alright. What's done is done. How soon do you think the repairs can get done?"

"Good question. I'm waiting for the insurance adjuster to call me back."

Matt shook his head. "Screw the insurance. We don't need them to get it repaired. How soon can you get the materials?"

"Might be able to get them in a couple of days."

"Do it."

"Okay." The two cowboys left him sitting at the table brooding over the cup of coffee. That didn't last long however as the kids found him and drug him out to play.


	7. Chapter 7

**07 - Unearthed**

The sound of two chainsaws could be heard as Matt and Ben worked on opposite ends of the giant old oak tree, the top end of which they had already pulled free from the wreckage of the arena with the help of a tractor. Houston was blocking out large chunks of the tree, the earplugs reducing the noise of the saws considerably. Although he was paying attention to his work, he was also thinking about his problem with the hit, and was startled when he felt a tug on his shirt, realizing as he jumped that his was the only saw still running. He turned to see Ben standing next to him and turned it off before removing the ear plugs. "Something wrong?"

"Don't know. I found something." He motioned the younger man toward the other end of the tree and pointed to the ground where the roots were exposed. "Why in the hell would somebody put that under there?" Ben Devereux leaned against the tree as Matt squatted down next to the metal box that had been unearthed by the foreman.

Silently, the detective opened it and looked it over, then stood back up and removed the phone from his pocket and dialed the number for the HCSO crime scene unit, reaching Chris Eversong. "Chris, I've got a problem. One of our guys found something kinda fishy out here on CJ'S ranch."

"Oh?" The tech put down the sandwich he had been about to take a bite out of and leaned back in his chair.

"It's an old ammo box - about a 30 cal I'd say - with a few interesting items in it. I haven't dug around in it, but I can see a pistol, cuffs, knife, and a blindfold."

"Alrighty then. And here I was thinking that it was going to be a quiet day. "

"Guess that's what you get for thinkin'."

"Have you notified the sheriff?"

"I'm about to do that."

"Okay, I'll head that way. What's the address?" He took down the information.

"I'll have one of the guys meet you at the gate and let you in."

"See you in a bit."

Matt disconnected the call and turned to Devereaux. "Show me exactly where it was when you found it."

"Right down under here." The foreman knelt and gestured to a spot that had been exposed by the uprooting and moving of the tree.

"Alright." He stared at the contents of the box.

"I'm no detective, but that ain't good."

"Nope." Matt gently closed it up then stood. "Most likely not gonna get prints off the outside of that after it's been in the dirt and mud." He punched in the number for Francine Martinez.

"Houston, how's CJ doing?" She stood and looked out the windows of her office, peering down into Buffalo Bayou.

"She's going to be okay." He went on to explain what had been found.

"Sounds like a murder kit. I'm going to have De la Cruz assigned to this. If I hand it to Chuck-"

"Yeah, it would be as bad as giving it to me. That's why I called you directly."

"Think I'll head that way myself. I'm tired of looking at all this damn paperwork. See ya." She hung up and headed for the door of her office, telling the secretary outside to cancel her afternoon appointments.

Back at the PH, Scott manned the gate and admitted De la Cruz and Eversong, then a moment later Martinez. A disgruntled look crossed his features as he saw the driver of the vehicle that had been following the sheriff: Tamara Placer. She and her cameraman pulled to the side of the road and stepped out. "Houston isn't going to like that." He got in the pickup and followed the others back to where both Matt and Ben were sitting on the tailgate of their truck.

"I'd say it was nice to see you again, but…" Martinez gave Houston a mock grimace.

"Same here." He nodded in the direction of the box. "Ben, show 'em where you found it." He hung back as the foreman showed the group exactly where the box had been hidden and described how the tree had been situated before he and Houston had wrapped it with a chain and eased it down from the shambles of the roof onto the ground with the aid of a tractor.

"You told me that CJ's uncle used to own this place, right?" Martinez straightened back up and brushed dirt from her khakis.

"He did. Not sure when he bought it but he lived here when he died. CJ might know." Matt removed his phone, dialing the house phone just in case she was napping. "Hey, Lil Mama. How are you feelin'?" There was a pause and he smiled. "Uh huh, now you know what I've had to put up with. But that's not why I called you." He explained once again and then asked the question. "Hang on. She says he bought it back in 1971."

Martinez nodded and De la Cruz continued to take notes. "Does she feel up to answering a few questions?"

Matt asked and nodded his reply. "Be there in a minute, Babe." He disconnected the call.

"You can ride with me while De la Cruz finishes up here."

"Alright." Matt began brushing the sawdust from his clothes, stomping to rid his workboots of some of the accumulated mud, and climbed into her SUV. When they pulled through the gate, he saw Placer's cameraman filming them and mumbled a few choice words under his breath. "Here we go again."

"Guess she's missed you." Martinez snickered and went up the road to the Houston ranch where Matt punched in the code for the gate and they drove around to the back. The twins and Catey ran to meet them and Vinny insisted on taking Francine by the hand and leading her up the steps. Marty chuckled and punched Matt in the shoulder.

"Looks like you might have a little competition for your girlfriend, Boss Man."

The answer was a roll of the eyes before the detective jogged up the back steps followed closely by Catey Rose and Mike. Once inside he asked Sheila to round up the kids so that they could talk freely. Vinny pouted as he was led away by the nanny, his dad left to shake his head.

"So how are you feeling?" Francine had a seat on the couch next to the recliner where CJ was seated with the cast on her elevated leg displaying the artwork of her children.

"Like a glorified coloring book." She laughed as she carefully shifted in the chair, her look changing to one of seriousness. "So what all was in the box?"

Martinez relayed what they had seen so far. "Chris Eversong will go through it back at the lab. We didn't want to take a chance of compromising anything."

"So what can I do to help?"

"Tell me a little about your uncle. You said he bought it in '71?"

"He did. After Matt bought the property for me I looked through the list of owners on the title search." She turned her attention to her husband. "Hon, I printed it out after you called. Will you get it out of the study?"

"Yes, ma'am." He left the room, returning in just a moment with the information. He handed it over to Martinez as CJ spoke again.

"I've got it here on my laptop. Erroll bought it from Sam Hendricks. Working backwards it belonged to Herman Wolker, Clarence Martin, and Hezekiah Aldrich. Aldrich bought it in 1865. Back then it included the property here." She tapped on the recliner.

"Wow." Martinez looked over the list. "You know, just because it was buried on the property it wasn't necessarily put there by one of the owners, but it is a place to start." Letting out a sigh, the sheriff folded the papers in half and began chuckling as she cocked her head at Houston. "I believe Michael Hoyt is right about you - lightning rod."

"Don't you start. I've got enough problems right now."

"Oh?" CJ raised her eyebrows.

"Guess who was parked outside the gates when we pulled through?"

"Goody. Not." She shook her head. "Guess you two will make her report this evening."

Martinez laughed and said her goodbyes to CJ, then walked out onto the back porch with Matt who wore a concerned look on his face. "Something wrong?"

"Let's make a trip back to the PH." He slid into the SUV and as they started down the driveway, he told the sheriff about the attempted rape on CJ at the hands of two of Erroll's friends when she was fifteen. "If they were willing to do that…"

"Oh, my God! And he just stood there?"

"Erroll was about the lowest life form I've ever seen. From what I know of CJ's dad, they were like night and day."

"Unbelievable."

"What I was wondering is if there might be more there than just the box."

"I'd say that's a justifiable question." They pulled out onto the road immediately followed by Placer. "That woman needs to get a life."

Back at the PH, Matt and Martinez exited the SUV and went up on the front porch of the house where Ben and Scott had both retreated to stay out of the way of the investigation. The ranch foreman raised the baseball cap off his head and scratched. "Boss Man, who do you think put that there?"

"Don't know." Matt looked back over to where Chris Eversong was loading his equipment back into his vehicle. Turning to the sheriff he gestured to the downed tree. "If you want we can do a little excavating in that area - see if there is anything else there."

"Let's talk to Chris." She led the way over. "What do you think? Is there anything else?"

Eversong shrugged. "I really can't say. We could bring out the GPR."

"Do it." She turned back to find Matt staring at the barn. "Something?"

He jerked his head in the direction of the barn, not speaking until they were away from the other officers on the scene. "If you were going to hide a body here where would you put it?"

"Well...there's a lot of acreage here." She looked at the concern on his face. "Something tells me that you've got a hunch."

He removed the ballcap from his head, and smoothed down the hair before replacing it, choosing his words carefully, his voice very quiet but filled with emotion. "Erroll was a mean old bastard." He started toward the barn and she walked with him. "I honestly wouldn't put it past him to have buried that box back there. He was also lazy. CJ did most of the work around here."

"So you think that he might have concealed something in the barn, too?"

The look he gave her was grave. "Or someone." His voice was barely above a whisper. "Let's go take a look around." They entered the barn, Matt flipping switches just inside the door, bringing to life large sections of lighting all down the walkway. "Ben did a lot of work in here. He expanded it out to the south there." He advanced down the hallway. "Right here is where the new section starts."

"Did he have to clear out any trees?"

"No. There wasn't anything there but a corral." His gaze shifted to a post on the eastern wall where a piece of metal stuck out of one of the posts.

"What is that?" Francine walked over to it, reaching up for it.

"It used to be a knife."

"How in the heck did it get there?"

"Remember what I told you about Erroll's buddies attacking CJ?" The reply was a nod. "I had him pinned to the wall right there…" He stopped, the anger on his face as fresh as the day that the incident had happened.

" _You_ did that?"

He nodded.

"You loved her even back then, didn't you?"

He gave a sad smile as he nodded. "Since the day we met when we were ten." With that he turned and walked back out into the sunshine.


	8. Chapter 8

**08 - Great Minds**

Matt and Ben left the PH and went back to the Houston ranch. With the ongoing investigation, they wouldn't be able to work on the downed tree or the arena. They had left Scott behind to man the gate and make sure that Tamara Placer didn't try to slip in while one of the department vehicles went through the gate.

The ride was a quiet one, with Ben sneaking a look at Houston. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Matt nodded. His mind was running in several different directions: the ammo box under the tree, the hit that was out on him, and the phone call that he had received late last night from George McSwain. The old private investigator had picked up on a conversation between Lynch and his foreman Zeke Varley in which he had ordered the murder of yet another of his employees.

They got out of the truck in back of the house and Matt suddenly remembered the storm damage to Devereux's house. "What about your roof?"

"Waiting on the dang insurance company. Marcy said that it will be late this afternoon before the guy gets there. He was supposed to show this morning."

"Well, go on and take care of that, bud. We're pretty much shut down at the PH right now."

"Okay." He turned and went toward his own truck. "Holler if you need me." Matt waved in reply and went up the steps. The house was quiet and he looked at his watch: 1:30. The kids were napping. He looked into the den and found it empty, then went to the downstairs bedroom that he and CJ were using while she recuperated. Easing the door open, he saw her sleeping on her side with her left leg propped on two pillows. Gently he closed the door and went back down the hallway and turned, going into the study and sitting down behind the desk. Which way to go?

"I thought I heard you come in." Madre Rosa stepped inside. "You didn't have lunch."

"Not hungry." He stared blankly at the wall opposite him.

"What's wrong, _hijo_?"

"Nothing."

She sat down on the loveseat. "Why do you do that?"

"What?" His gaze shifted to her.

"Try to lie to me." She watched as he shook his head. "Do you realize how long I have known you?" A smile crossed his features. "Talk to me."

Matt blew out a breath, leaning back in the chair. "I…" He stopped. "There's just a lot going on right now."

"You are worried about the box that Ben found?"

"Yeah."

"And CJ." The answer was a nod. "And…?" She watched as he looked down at his hands. "You are also worried about the men that want you dead." He didn't answer. "There's no shame in admitting that you are worried, _chico_. I would think you a fool if you weren't. Now, let's look at these problems. You have George to help you with the Donovan Lynch problem and Michael as well. And the box?" She shrugged. "You are not responsible for that. Let the sheriff take care of that. And as far as CJ goes, she's going to be just fine." She watched as he nodded, still not speaking. "She told me about the baby yesterday." He nodded again, the obvious sadness on his face. She crossed the room and leaned down to give him a hug. "These things happen, _hijo_. But there will be more babies for you two, I feel sure of it." She kissed his cheek. "Now would you do me a favor?"

"Yeah."

"Don't try to shoulder the burdens of the whole world. You don't control everything." Patting him on the shoulder, she quietly left the room.

He sat in thought for a minute, then picked up the phone and called Hoyt's cell phone.

"What's going on, PI?" Hoyt was driving back from a gruesome murder scene and was happy when he saw the ID pop up on his phone.

"A lot. I'm back in Texas." He went on to relate the reason for his return.

"So she's doing okay?"

"Yeah, she'll be fine. Just needs a little time."

"What else is going on?" He listened intently as Matt told him about the box and his worries that more than just a murder kit might be buried on the ranch. "And obviously you're upset about it. Well…" He paused for a minute. "In the grand scheme of things, that really doesn't matter. It's something that happened before the property came into your hands. Let the department worry about it."

"That's exactly what Madre Rosa just told me."

"She's a wise lady. And an excellent cook. Sure wish I had some of her tamales about now." He laughed. "So what about Lynch? Heard anything else?"

"As a matter of fact I'm expecting George to be by in a little bit. He overheard a conversation between him and that foreman Varley. Seems that he's planning to get rid of another employee the hard way."

"Wow. What a piece of work." The detective pulled into the parking garage at the precinct and shut off the engine. "We haven't gotten anything else here at all. Barkowski is slick. He seems to know that we've been trying to keep tabs on him and he's got a regular schedule that he keeps. I'm afraid it's going to take more than tailing him to find out anything important."

"Like critters?"

"I didn't say that." That was exactly what the cop had been thinking. He also knew that he would end up losing his job and possibly doing time if he went that route.

"You thought it, though." Matt leaned back in the chair, propping his feet up on the desk. "I'd say our two weakest links in this whole business are Lockwood and Lynch. And the last time that Lockwood was interviewed by Rich his lawyer did most of the talking and they got absolutely nowhere."

"Which leaves Lynch." Hoyt got out of the car and stood waiting for the elevator. "Not to tell you your business, but I think that's where you need to concentrate your efforts right now."

"Yeah, I think you're right. I'll see exactly what George got on him and try to figure someway to trip him up. I can only hope that if we can get him or Lockwood to tumble maybe the rest of the dominoes will fall."

"It would be nice."

"Talk to you later, Michael. Tell the family I said howdy."

"I'll do it." He heard as the PI disconnected the call and as he stepped onto the elevator, he wondered once again just how long it would be before they had a break in the case? Just from the sound of his friend's voice he knew that Houston was worried.

Matt left the study and went to the kitchen for coffee, almost running into Madre Rosa as she was going toward the study with a plate containing a sandwich. "Good. You saved me a trip. Sit, _hijo_."

"You know, you're getting pretty bossy here lately."

"So nice of you to notice. Sit." She put the plate down in front of him then a cup of coffee. "You seem to be in a little bit better mood."

Matt chewed, bobbling his head a little bit. "I guess. Michael just told me to let Francine run with the box."

"See?" She patted his arm.

"George will be here in a little while."

"See to it that he doesn't try to smoke in here again."

"After you almost beat him with a broom? Don't think we have to worry about that." The PI cracked up thinking of what George had told him about the encounter when he had tried smoking in the bathroom near the study. Even with the fan on Madre Rosa had tracked down the smell and assaulted him.

"Mmph." She got up from the table and went to the laundry room, leaving him to finish the sandwich.


	9. Chapter 9

**09 - Eye in the Sky**

"That son of a bitch." Matt sat in shock after watching the video that McSwain had of Lynch's conversation with foreman Zeke Varley. " _For a little bit more last night they could have found those girls."_ What girls?"

"Don't have a clue. But he sure don't want the cops to know about 'em, does he?" McSwain popped a mint into his mouth. He knew that smoking in the Houston house was strictly forbidden by the housekeeper and the vape pen that he had been using had caused him to cough. His solution - at least while at Houston's - was mints. And lots of them.

Matt got up from the desk and walked to look out the window that overlooked the front lawn of the estate. His mind drifted back a few months to the case that he and Chuck had worked involving a shipment of Chinese illegals that had been discovered during a traffic stop. The young deputy that initiated the stop had been killed by the driver of the van, a member of a Chinese triad that had smuggled the people into the US by ship. Not long after a young Chinese woman's body had been discovered in Dallas, apparently sexually abused and tortured. Her ID had been found in a batch in the apartment of the two triad members.

He sat down behind the desk and began working the keyboard, pulling up the website for the Collin County Sheriff's Office and found the inmate list. "Terrell Snyder is still in lockup."

"So at the moment he's safe." McSwain popped another mint into his mouth. "You got any way of calling up there and telling them to hold him?"

Houston pulled in a deep breath and shook his head as he released it. "No. Quite frankly I don't know if I can trust anybody there. Lynch has got a lot of folks on the payroll."

"True." He paused. "But what if the bond agents were told not to-..."

The younger man shook his head. "With Lynch's money they probably won't be using a bond agency."

"Damn rich folks. Present company excluded." That brought a chuckle from Matt but his face soon turned serious.

"Another problem we have is the critters: those batteries won't last much longer I'm afraid."

"I wondered about that. So what do we do? Put in more bugs?"

"I really don't want you to go back in there, pard."

"Didn't have a problem last time. Peggy the maid got me in while Lynch was off the property."

"Tell you what: call and see if she knows if he'll be gone anytime soon."

"Won't be able to get hold of her until after ten tonight."

"Do what you can." He watched as the older man stood up. "Remember what I told you from the start on this, George. If at any point you want to quit, just say so."

"Not likely. This guy needs to be taken down."

As the older man left the room, Matt could hear the kids coming down the stairs along with Sheila. They went to the kitchen and he swiveled to his right, looking out the front window once again. He became aware that he was no longer alone and looked across the desk to see Catey Rose peeking around the doorframe. "Whatcha doin', Lady Bug?"

"Came to check on you." A smile spread across her face and she skipped around the end of the desk, her arms outstretched so that her daddy could pick her up. He pulled her close, giving her a hug and receiving a kiss on the cheek.

"So who put you up to checking on me?" He looked into the eyes that were an exact copy of her mother's.

"Well…" She paused dramatically as she was so likely to do. "Since Mama hurt her leg I took the job."

He laughed, pushing a curl away from her face. "Maybe you need to keep an eye on her since she has a boo-boo."

"Miss Sheila says you been a bad 'fluence on her." The statement caused Matt to howl with laughter.

"That's a mighty big word for somebody so short, Lady Bug." He hoisted her onto his shoulders and went toward the sound of the boys' laughter in the kitchen.

Later that evening after supper, playtime, giving the kids baths, and tucking them in, Matt returned to the study. He opened the laptop on the desk and pulled up the satellite program, wondering as he did so what the life expectancy of a used Russian satellite was and how much longer it would last. It had come in handy so many times in the past. The current position had the Houston ranch and the PH under surveillance. There hadn't been any further attempts on his life since Dibra had been picked up by Chuck right after Matt's surgery almost four months earlier. The two ranches now had top of the line security systems plus all of the cowboys were aware of the problem and were armed while on the properties. He looked up the coordinates for Lynch's ranch, punched them in and watched as the satellite moved slowly into position. While he wouldn't be able to tell much about the goings-on at night, it would give him an edge during the daylight hours. Right now he needed every advantage that he could get.

He heard the sound of CJ's crutches coming up the hallway and went to the door. "What's up, Lil Mama?"

"Thought I would come see if you need any help."

"You need to be resting."

"I have been." She entered the study and with his help, eased herself down onto the loveseat. Matt propped her left leg up. "So have you and George come up with anything else?"

"Not exactly." He told her about the plan for Varley to kill Snyder.

"Hon, this guy is just totally out of control. He's always been bad; now he's just…" She shook her head. "So what's the plan?"

"Well…" He sat back down behind the desk, gesturing to the computer. "I moved the satellite over Lynch's property."

"Good. I was going to suggest that." There was quiet for a minute and she tried to think of something to say. "I'm going to start on your mom's side of the family tree tomorrow."

"Good. Maybe I'm related to a famous bullfighter or something." He grinned. The conversation faltered once again. Suddenly she burst into tears and he went to her, kneeling down beside her. "What's going on, Babe?" She shook her head. "Easy now. C'mon. Talk to me."

"It's all my fault."

"Nothing is your fault, baby." He stroked her hair, kissing her cheek as the tears continued to flow.

"It feels like you're disappointed in me."

"Look at me." She turned her head away and he gently turned her back to face him. "There's nothing you could ever do to disappoint me. Never. What happened wasn't anybody's fault, Babe. C'mon. Put your arms around my neck." He carried her to the bedroom that they had been using as Sheila came down the stairs.

"You okay, CJ?" She followed along behind them.

"She's alright." Matt gently put her on the bed and began propping the pillows up for her leg.

"Are you hurting? You can have a pain pill…" She turned toward the bathroom.

"No, I'm fine."

"Girl, you don't cry for no reason at all." Her attention turned to Matt and an angry look crossed her face. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing." He turned his shocked face to the nurse.

"You better not have."

"He didn't, Sheila. Everything is fine. I just…" She closed her eyes, shaking her head.

"Well, get some rest. Call me if you need me, okay?"

"Thanks." CJ took a tissue from the bedside table and dabbed at her eyes. After the nanny left the room she finally spoke again. "I'm sorry."

"Hush." He leaned forward and kissed her. "Things are just mixed up right now, that's all. It's going to be okay. Now…" He brushed her hair back away from her face. "How about a nice back rub?"


	10. Chapter 10

**10 - Not a Wishing Well**

"Trial is set for six weeks from today, Mr. Snyder." The judge's gavel came down and the courtroom came alive with the sounds of people talking as they made their way outside. Zeke Varley leaned over the rail and caught the ranch hand's attention.

"I'll meet you out front when you get done." His answer was a nod and a relieved smile. Varley left the courtroom, his pulse pounding in his ears. He leaned against the wall on the steps and ran through his plan once again. Snyder was expecting to work extra hours to pay back Lynch for both the damage done to the fence as well as for the bail money. Varley had arranged for the rest of the crew to take the day off and had told the young man that as soon as they got back to the ranch he would begin work.

He removed the straw cowboy hat from his balding head and wiped the sweatband. _Damn Lynch!_ Why hadn't he took off the first time that the fat bastard had told him to get rid of a body? That had been over ten years ago when Paulette Lynch had confronted her husband about his cheating ways after she had overheard one of his flings at the beauty parlor talking about the jewelry that Donovan had given her the night before and how she had thanked him. When she found him in his study Paulette threatened him with divorce and intimated that she would be a great catch for someone when she had taken him to the cleaners. In a rage, he had strangled her right then and there. Varley had been summoned and told to dispose of the body. _Right then is when I should've high-tailed it out of the county._ But he hadn't. For a while it seemed like a good thing. Lynch had been a lot nicer to him, giving him a raise and a truck. Then a few months later he had to get rid of a ranch hand that the man had backhanded and sent flying into a beam in the barn, instantly killing him when his head struck it. There had been several others since then. And then he had enlisted Aguilar's help to dump the body of one of the Chinese girls. When he had been followed by a cop on the freeway, the young cowboy had panicked, gotten off at the next exit, and then dumped her under the freeway. Lynch had hit the roof when he found out. His next order was for Varley to kill and dispose of Aguilar. And now here he was about to murder Terrell Snyder. _I could live like a damn king down in Mexico. Oughta just go wipe out my bank account and head for the border._

Snyder came down the steps two at a time, anxious to be as far away from the jail as possible. "Mr. Varley, I can't thank you enough for gettin' me outta there." He slid into the truck and the pair left for the ranch. "I need to thank Mr. Lynch, too. Thought sure he was gonna fire my butt. Don't know why I tried to run. Just drunk I guess." The foreman just nodded, not saying a word and Snyder decided maybe he had best be quiet. Maybe with the help of Lynch's lawyer he would only get probation and not have to do any time.

An hour later, Varley and Snyder headed out to a spot that the foreman had used to get rid of bodies before: on old well that was situated in the area that had been the site of the original homeplace of the Lynch ranch. He had made up his mind that this would be the last body both for the well and himself. The two men exited the truck.

"Where's the tractor?" Snyder looked around for the piece of equipment.

"Not going to use one." Varley removed a shovel from the bed of the truck and approached the opening.

The younger man ventured over and peered down into the darkness. "Sure is gonna take a while doin' it by ha-..." He never got the last word out of his mouth. The shovel that the foreman was wielding came crashing down on the back of his skull and he hit the ground unconscious. Another blow to the neck caused a loud crunching noise. Varley stood over him momentarily. Snyder hadn't been the brightest but he had been a good worker. "Sorry, kid." He hoisted Snyder's front half onto the rock wall of the well then grabbed his lower legs and slid him down into the darkness. There was a very faint _thud_.

Zeke tossed the shovel into the back of the pickup and slid behind the wheel. He was done. To hell with Lynch and his taste for foreign girls. He would go back to his room in the bunkhouse, pack up what little he needed, and go to the bank. Let the bastard deal with all the problems that he had brought to the ranch.

As he parked in front of the bunkhouse his phone rang: Lynch. If he didn't answer the man would be suspicious. "Hello?"

"You got that job done?" Donovan looked at the body in front of him.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Come to the barn. I've got another one for you." Lynch disconnected the call and leaned against the wall to catch his breath. He hadn't planned on killing her, but when she put up such a fight that he had to restrain her, his temper had gotten the better of him. Silently, he cursed himself. He was down to three girls now. While he waited for Varley, he wiped the blood and sweat off his body and pulled his clothes back on, then looked at his face in the mirror of the room that he had set up in the barn for his trysts with the girls. The doorknob turned and the foreman came in, a shocked expression on his face. He looked questioningly at his boss. "Don't give me that look. She got out of hand. Tried to claw me half to death." He was still short of breath.

Varley looked at the mess in front of him. The girl was so young and had been beautiful - before Lynch got hold of her. Now she was a beaten and bloody mess lying in a heap on the bed. It was all he could do not to say something to the man, but he didn't want to raise any red flags. Without a word, he went to the bed and wrapped the lifeless body in the sheet and carried her out to the truck. She weighed no more than a child. He slid the body into the bed of the vehicle and got behind the wheel. _This is the last one,_ he thought to himself. _But that's what you said about Snyder._ He started the engine and went back out to the well, this time depositing the lifeless girl into the depths. Just as he was about to walk away he heard a moan and Snyder calling for help and froze in his tracks. _How in the hell is he still alive?_ Moving swiftly he went to the cab of the truck and removed a pistol from the door pocket. Blindly firing into the well, he emptied the magazine then stood listening after the echoes died out. There were no more sounds.


	11. Chapter 11

**11 - On the Run**

Why in the hell couldn't folks mind their own business these days? All Zeke wanted was his money and to be gone. Instead he was listening to what seemed to him like a well-used speech on the virtues of the bank. "Lady, just give me my money." The look he gave her seemed to cut through the crap and she began gathering it. After several more minutes he was headed out the door and sliding behind the wheel of his truck. A stop at the gas station at the onramp to I-75 was next. He bought a cooler, ice, drinks, a couple of sub sandwiches, chips, and a carton of cigarettes plus a tank full of gas. Once back inside the truck he pulled out one of the sandwiches and a Fizzy Pop, ate about half of it, swigged down a third of the cold drink and after burping loudly, picked up a pack of the cigarettes and began tapping them on the steering wheel. He hadn't smoked in over five years. After ripping the cellophane off the top he inhaled the familiar scent and pulled one out. He lit it and inhaled deeply before turning the key in the ignition.

Merging onto I-75, he felt like a huge weight had just been lifted from his shoulders. He had nothing to tie him down anymore: his mom had passed away seven years earlier and the only thing keeping him was the ranch. Now it was history and so was he. Mexico was going to be his home. He'd find someplace close to one of the beaches and spend the rest of his life fishing, drinking beer and tequila, and watching the señoritas. Hell, he might even find one that he could settle down with. Marriage had never seemed that important to him before but maybe now it might be something to think about. Cranking up the radio he flew on down the interstate, singing along with Waylon and Willie as the miles between him and Lynch grew bigger and his distance from freedom smaller.


	12. Chapter 12

**12 - Road Trip**

Matt went to the back porch where CJ was propped up on the swing watching the kids play on the playground that they had built along with their dad. She was looking better than she had the last few days and her mood was definitely better.

"Babe?" He knelt down by her side.

"Hey, Cowboy. What's going on?" She could read him like a book.

Quickly, he looked around to make sure that Madre Rosa wasn't in earshot. "I think I may be onto something. Do you feel up to watching the satellite for me?"

"Sure." She picked up the laptop that was on the swing next to her. "Is it Lynch?"

"No. Varley - the foreman." Once again he did a quick look around. "I think I just saw him dump a body into a well on the property. Then he went to the bunkhouse for about ten minutes and then he took off like a bat of hell for the bank. When I left the study he was at a gas station near I-75."

"Okay." She pulled up the satellite feed on the laptop. "What's he driving?"

"A blue Chevy crew cab with a bull skull sticker across the back window." He watched the screen. "Look south on I-75."

Scrolling down she clicked on a vehicle that looked like the one that Matt had described. "This one?" She zoomed in further as the satellite continued to follow its path.

"Uh huh."

"So what are you thinking?" Her hazel eyes met his.

"I think he's making a run for it."

"Why? I mean he's worked for Lynch for years. We know this isn't the first time he's killed for him."

Matt rubbed the back of his neck trying to quell the sensation of hair standing on end. "I...I just know." He looked back into her eyes.

"What do you want to do?"

"I'm going to call George - see if we can catch up with him."

"And? What are you going to do with Varley when you catch up to him?"

"I don't know. Something." He reached for her hand. "Will you be okay if I go? I don't want George taking him on by himself."

"I'm good, hon. Just please be careful."

"Yes, ma'am." He leaned forward and their lips met in a kiss as he stroked her cheek. "Call you as soon as I can. Love you."

"Love you, too." She watched as he went into the house and came back within a minute strapping on his holster. Another quick kiss and he was jogging down the steps, pausing momentarily as he first started for the department Suburban and then changed his mind and went for the white Ford pickup.

As soon as he hit the seat he punched George's number on the cell phone and started the engine, backing out and waving to the kids as they shouted at him. The phone was answered almost immediately.

"Yeah?"

"Varley is on the move." He explained what he had seen and his thoughts on what the foreman might be doing.

"What makes you think he ain't just goin' to town?"

"I just…" Matt didn't want to try to explain it. "I just do. I'm going to try to intercept him."

"Boy, you don't even know for sure that he's runnin'."

"So if I'm wrong we're just using a little gas."

There was a chuckle on the other end of the line. "Aw, hell. Why not?" The old private investigator rolled out of his desk chair and reached into a drawer for his pistol and a box of ammunition. "Where am I supposed to go?"

"Well…" He turned out of the gates of the ranch onto Crosby-Huffman Road heading north toward FM-1960. "West."

"Pulled that one outta yer hat, huh?" George locked the door of the office and went to the Buick parked out front.

"Sometimes I kinda…" Matt paused. George wasn't the type to believe in dreams or visions or whatever it was that happened with him sometimes.

There was a chuckle on the other end of the line. "It's okay. Roy told me about how you can sense things."

"I'm not crazy."

"Didn't say you were." The older man got behind the wheel, glad that he had filled the tank up that morning. "Son, there's a lot of things that happen that just can't be explained. Let's just leave it at that. Whatever the hell it is, Roy said it's come in handy on a few occasions. So be it."

"Well, think about it. If you were going to cross the border where would you go?"

"Hell, I don't know. My Mexico days are long past. Although there was this one…" He heard the younger man snicker. "Never mind."

"I'm willing to bet he'll head for Laredo."

"Okay. Let's see - it's about what? Six or seven hours from Plano to Laredo?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, you said he's on I-75. If he goes to Laredo he'll be on 35."

"We could hit I-10 and meet up with I-35 in San Marcos."

"Yeah. But let me ask you this: should we meet up and ride together? Old Bertha here ain't as young as she used to be." _Neither am I for that matter,_ he thought to himself.

"We can do that. I'll meet you at the department."

"They won't tow Bertha will they?"

"I'll make sure they don't."

"See you there." George disconnected the call. He hadn't told Houston yet, but he had decided that this was going to be his last case. He had already quit taking other cases and was about to give notice to the landlord on his office. If he was only working with Houston he could just as easily work from home. He pulled into the parking lot on Baker Street and shut off the engine, startled as a sharp rap on the roof of the old Buick sounded. Chuck Wylie's face appeared outside his window and he drew a relieved breath. "That's a good way to give a man a heart attack, boy." He got out of the car and pulled a fresh cigarette from the pack.

"What're you up to?"

"Oh, about six foot. You?"

"Funny."

"Actually…" The older man looked around. "I'm meeting Houston here."

Chuck picked up on the serious tone of his voice. "What's going on?" About that time his phone rang. "Speak of the devil and he calls me up. What's going on, pard? I just ran into George."

"We may be on to something." He filled the detective in on what he had seen and what he and George were about to do.

"Well, what in the hell are you going to do when you find him? You can't arrest him."

"I know. I just...I haven't gotten that far yet."

"So do you want me to let the Boss Lady know what's going on?" He waited as his friend weighed the options.

"Yeah, I guess you better. I might need her help before it's all said and done."

"Wise move. But maybe you better fill her in?"

"Is she around there?"

"Don't know. I just got back from the morgue." He looked toward the front of the building. "Her SUV is here. Don't necessarily mean she is."

"I'll call her. I should be there in about ten minutes."

"See ya." Chuck hung up, chewing his bottom lip. "Maybe I should go with y'all."

"It won't be in your official capacity." McSwain flicked ash off the end of the cigarette.

"True."

"I've got a feeling that it might be better if you didn't." Chuck looked at him. "Things might not be exactly by the book if you know what I mean."

"Yeah." His phone rang. "Yes, ma'am?"

Martinez pushed the keyboard away from her and stood. "Bring George up to my office. Houston is going to meet us up here."

"Will do." The call ended. "The Boss Lady says we're meeting upstairs."

"Should be interesting." The older man inhaled the nicotine greedily as they made their way to the entrance.

A few minutes later they were in Martinez's office seated on the couch when Matt came in the door.

"Soooo…" The sheriff swiveled in the chair behind her desk. "Care to explain to me how you know he's going to Laredo?"

"I don't for sure." He stood in front of the desk.

"One of those gut instincts?" She knew all about Matt's visions: he had proven himself the day the tornado had hit the station.

"Yes, ma'am." He watched as she slowly nodded. "How do you plan to intercept him? I mean he could get off of 75 and go some other way."

"I, uh…" He hadn't told the sheriff about the satellite. "Somebody is keeping watch for me."

"Uh huh." She stared at him momentarily. He obviously wasn't going to offer any other information. "You do understand that I can't sanction a traffic stop in San Marcos?"

"Yes, ma'am." He had been thinking about it the whole way over and reached into his shirt pocket, removing the seven pointed badge and gently placing it on her desk, surprised at the feeling of loss as he did so.

"No." She stood and picked it up, coming around the desk. "You hang onto that. Just don't go flashing it around Varley."

"I don't want to put you or the department…"

"That's an order, Sergeant." She dropped it back into the pocket that he had removed it from. "Just use your best judgement."

"Thank you."

"Keep me informed. And be careful."

"Yes, ma'am." He turned for the door and George followed.

"Pard?" Chuck crossed the room. "You need backup?"

"You best stay here." He saw the hurt look on his best friend's face. "I might need some help later." He patted the man on the shoulder before quietly walking through the door followed by George.


	13. Chapter 13

**13 - On the Road Again**

A little over two hours later, Matt was exiting onto Highway 123 at Seguin headed north toward San Marcos. He punched CJ's number on his phone. "Hey, anything changed?"

"No, he's still headed toward San Marcos - should be about ninety minutes out. Unless he speeds up." She had moved into the study and was seated on the loveseat with her leg propped up, the computer on her lap.

"Alright, we're on 123 now. Did you find me a good spot to pull him over?"

"I think so. There's a dead end called Paramount Circle. Take the I-35 Frontage Road South to Premier Parkway. Paramount runs off to the left. There are a few houses north of it, but you should have some privacy there." She paused for a minute. "Are you sure this is what you want to do, hon?"

"It seems like the right thing, Babe."

"Okay, you know that thing I usually say?"

He could hear the hint of humor in her voice and used the henpecked voice. "Yes, dear." George snickered, lit another cigarette and looked out the passenger window thinking about his own wife Yvette who had passed away a few years previously.

"Call me."

"Yes, ma'am. Love you."

"You too, Cowboy." She ended the call and watched Varley's truck on the laptop's screen as he continued his flight southward. The foreman had killed for Lynch more than once that they knew of: what was to keep him from killing for himself if Matt and George were standing between him and freedom?

Matt stopped for the red light at Highway 123 and Link Road. "You're awful quiet over there. Everything okay?"

George nodded. "Yeah. I've got something to tell you, though." He looked at the younger man. "You're my last client."

"Oh?" Matt pressed the accelerator as the light turned green.

"Yep. When this is over I'm hanging it up."

"You know you can quit right now if you want, George. I told you that from the get go."

"Nope. I want to see this through. This SOB needs taking down." The answer was a nod. "Besides, I want to go out on top." That brought a smile and a laugh from Houston.

"I'll do my very best not to let you down, pard."

The older man glanced at him. _Damn if he don't look like his dad._ Although Matt didn't know it, McSwain had served in Vietnam with Wade Mattlock. He had run into him back in 1980 at a bar in Mexico. The two had talked for hours and it was then that George had learned of his marriage to Carmen, the accident that caused the early birth of their child, and her death an hour later. Wade had blamed the baby for her death, but George had often wondered if the accident hadn't been the cause. He told McSwain that he had turned the baby boy over to Bill Houston to raise. After George heard about the oilman's move to the city a few years later he had kept tabs on the boy for Wade, sending him newspaper clippings of his victories in baseball, football, and rodeo. When Matt had won the Medal of Honor he had sent the announcement to his friend express mail. Then when Wade had been shot and killed on the front steps of the Houston estate a few years back he had almost come to the young man and told him. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that Wade made him promise to never tell the boy that he knew about the adoption because it would hurt Bill. He had kept that promise.

"Well, pard. I could use a drink. How about you?" Matt had secretly been watching the older man out of the corner of his eye and had a feeling that there was more going on than what he had just related.

"Wouldn't hurt my feelings."

They pulled into a Burger Nerd on the outskirts of San Marcos, both men stretching as they walked inside, placed their order, and then slid into a booth with a view of the parking lot. Matt took a sip of the coffee and a bite of cherry turnover. "George, there's something else going on. What is it?"

The older man took a bite of his pastry, wiped his hands on a napkin, and gave Matt an assessing look.

"Out with it."

George picked up the cup of coffee. "Well, I don't guess it much matters now what with Bill being gone." He sipped again. "I served with your father in 'Nam."

Matt momentarily stopped chewing. "My father?"

He nodded. "Wade." Giving a little laugh he watched as the younger man drank more of the coffee. "I used to keep him updated on you."

"Did Bill know?"

"Naw, don't think so. Unless Wade told him. I didn't meet Bill until just a few years ago. About three years or so before he passed."

"How come you never told me before?"

"I don't know. Wasn't sure how you would react I guess." Both men continued to eat and kept a watch outside the restaurant. "You're a lot like him, you know. Look a hell of a lot like him. Sure enough act like him." He smiled. "He sure did love your mama."

"We didn't get to talk much when we met. There was so much going on with Cody trying to kill us. But we made a hell of a team." His phone rang. "Yeah, Babe?"

"Varley just had a flat tire. He's on the side of the highway just north of Buda. It's pretty secluded…" As they hurriedly left the restaurant, Matt got the exact location from her. "Call me."

"Yes, ma'am." He hung up and hit the road, hoping that he wouldn't get pulled over as he quickly exceeded the speed limit.

"God damn it!" Varley was under the bed of the pickup trying to loosen the cable that held the spare tire. In the last half hour since the tire blew he had already hit his knuckles and had a gash on his left hand and had burnt the side of his right on the exhaust as he had crawled underneath. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm down, then resumed his work. The bolt had accumulated a layer of mud and grease that had been baked on by the heat. He pulled a screwdriver out of his back pocket and proceeded to chip away at it. One day he would look back on this and laugh, he thought to himself. The sound of an approaching vehicle that was slowing down got his attention and he watched from under the truck as two pairs of boots approached.

"Need some help?"

"No, just got to break this bolt loose. Thanks anyway." He watched as the boots moved even closer. "I said no thanks."

"Come on out from under there."

Varley froze. "Say what?"

"Come out from under there." The man speaking was on the driver's side of the truck and Varley now noticed that he wasn't wearing regular boots: they were duty boots.

"Go to hell." He heard sound of a round being chambered and found himself wishing that he had thought to tuck his pistol in his waistband before getting out of the truck.

"You've got to the count of three to come out of there."

The sound of another engine slowing brought him a glimmer of hope. Maybe somebody had seen the man's gun and was trying to help him. But in the matter of a couple of seconds those thoughts came to a halt as automatic gunfire erupted. In less than a second the man who had ordered him out from under the truck was diving underneath. Varley couldn't believe his eyes. It was none other than Matt Houston.

"George, you okay?" Houston returned fire on the car and hit the right front tire and then the rear, putting a few rounds into the doors as well. He heard a scream of pain. The driver tried to take off but with the car on two rims he wasn't going anywhere fast.

"Yeah." The old private investigator had crouched down behind the right rear wheel of Varley's truck and had just snuck a peek over the top of the bed. "You hit somebody. Damn blood all over the windows in there."

"Good." Matt turned his attention to Varley and removed a pair of cuffs from the back of his jeans, grabbing the man's right hand and popping the cuffs on him and then over a support on the truck. "Stay put." As the man spluttered his reply, the PI turned his attention back to the attackers in the car. Sliding toward the back of the truck, he took a look. George was right: somebody in the car had been hit bad. Apparently the driver was trying to deal with that and had put the car into park.

Moving swiftly out from under the truck, Matt darted behind the car before the back window was blown out by more gunfire. He raised his own pistol up and fired three more shots into the vehicle, satisfied as he heard another scream of pain. He moved on around on the driver's side as cars continued to fly past in the left lane. The driver wasn't going to be a problem anymore: what was left of his head was resting on the steering wheel, the exit wound from Matt's bullet having taken off a large part of the front of his skull. The only one still moving was the passenger. "Drop your gun out the window."

"I can't, man!" Tears streamed down the young man's face. "I'm bleeding!"

"That's what happens when you shoot at folks who know how to shoot back." George had approached on the passenger side and reached inside and removed the Tech 9 that was half-lying on the man's lap.

"George, call some help for us, will you?" He cursed under his breath as he circled around the car to check on the rear passenger. The last thing he wanted to do was try to explain the mess with Varley to some cop that he didn't know.

McSwain had his phone out. "The guy in back need an ambulance?"

"Nope. Needs the coroner." The reply was a nod. Matt went to the front passenger. "Who are you working for?" The young man looked hardly more than twenty, was Hispanic, and had close cut hair.

"Man, I need help!"

"It's on the way. Now, while you can still talk you better tell me: who sent you?"

"Nuh uh. He'll kill me."

"What makes you think that I haven't already?" His low gravelly tone had the desired effect. The boy went more pale. "Better confess while you still can."

"Mendoza. Diego Mendoza." He gulped in air, clenching his teeth as he tried to keep pressure on the two wounds, one in his right side and the other his right calf.

Matt exchanged a look with George who had just ended the phone call to 911. "What the hell?"


	14. Chapter 14

**14 - Explanations**

Four hours later, Matt and George were walking out of the Hays County Sheriff's Department on Uhland Road in San Marcos. It was now dark out, and both men quickly scanned the parking lot as they approached the truck, the younger fuming over the fact that Varley was now long gone. He had removed the cuffs before the deputies had arrived. Varley had completed the repairs on the truck and was allowed to leave, unlike Houston and McSwain who had to explain that they had pulled over to help the stranded motorist and been fired at by the men in the car. Once ID's were checked as well as records and the car's occupants were revealed to be known gang members with warrants the process moved a little more quickly.

"Good thing Francine made you keep that badge this morning." McSwain closed the truck door. As Matt started the engine one of the deputies flagged him down. "Now what?"

"Mr. Houston, Sheriff Grayson thought you might like to know - the guy from the car just died on the table."

"Appreciate it." He put the truck in gear and backed out. "Damn it."

"He got what he had coming to him."

"No, I'm talking about Varley. Bastard's probably crossing the border about now."

"It's not like we had much choice, Matt. If the cops had shown up and he was cuffed you would have to-..."

"Yeah, I know." He called CJ back. "We're out."

"I lost Varley down around Encinal, hon. It just got too dark. But it looks like you were right on target about him heading for Laredo. Did you find out anything about the shooters?"

"Yeah, they were working for Diego Mendoza, the leader of _Las Serpientes_." There was no reply. "You still there?"

"Yeah…"

He could tell by the sound of her voice that something was wrong. "What's up, Babe?"

"Well, you know I told you that I was working on your family tree on your mom's side?"

"Yeah."

"Hon, I found it tonight while you were dealing with the sheriff there: Diego Mendoza is your cousin."

"No."

"Yes."

He thought about it. "So...I guess he's the Mexican connection with Barkowski. But why? We've never even met."

"I don't know, baby."

George spoke up. "I think we can catch up to Varley with a little luck."

Matt looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "You do realize how much of a head start he has on us now, right?"

The older man nodded, smiled, and removed an envelope from his back pocket. "I also realize that he won't get too far without this." He opened it to reveal a stash of hundred dollar bills.

"How…?"

"Guess it fell out of his back pocket while he was working under the truck. When the cops let him go and he took off outta there it was laying underneath an old grease rag on the ground. I made like I was picking up the rag to wipe off my hands."

"You sly old son of a gun!" Matt was beaming and began laughing, but stopped when he noticed that CJ was once again quiet.

"Hon, considering what happened earlier, don't you think you need to just come on home?"

"Well…" He looked to George who raised his hands and shrugged. "Babe, this may well be the last chance I get to snag Varley."

"And it may be that Mendoza is waiting for you."

"How about this? I've got a couple of folks that I know down at Border Patrol in Laredo. What if I call them and see if they can hold Varley for me?"

"And you would be going straight to their office?"

"That's my plan." There was a moment of silence and he held his breath waiting for her reply.

"Oh, alright. But you better be careful down there."

"Yes, ma'am. Love you."

"I love you. Call me."

"You know I will." He listened as she disconnected the call. "Phew." He pulled into the parking lot of a convenience store and looked through his contacts then placed a call to Captain Mauricio Prospero. The conversation was short and Matt was assured that so far Varley had not passed through the border checkpoint and if he did he would be detained. The pair went into the store, both keeping a close eye out for any signs of further attack, and picked up some coffee and snacks for the trip down to Laredo. After filling up the gas tank, they hit I-35 and headed south.


	15. Chapter 15

**15 - Nothing but Bad Luck**

"Oh, this can't be." Matt slowed the truck down and pulled over on the side of I-35 in front of Zeke Varley's truck. Both men pulled their pistols and carefully walked back to the blue Chevy crew cab with the hood partially up, Matt looking underneath as George kept an eye out. The younger man shook his head and they approached the front doors on either side, shining flashlights into the empty interior, then checking the backseat, and finally the bed. "Nada." They went back up to the front and Matt opened the hood. The engine wasn't blazing hot but he caught a whiff of something that smelled burnt. He couldn't help but chuckle. "I believe ole Zeke may have blown his transmission."

"Hope he don't gamble much. His luck just sucks." George laughed as they both looked around. They were just south of the Callaghan Ranch. "Think he would go to the ranch for help?"

Matt thoughtfully looked around. "Doubt it. If he's trying to get away from Lynch the last thing he wants is someone calling him saying, "Hey, your foreman is down here broken down on the side of the road."

"True." They went back to the white Ford and climbed back inside.

"Let's just keep going toward Laredo. Even if he hitched a ride he's still got to get past Border Patrol."

Twenty minutes later Matt spoke up. "Looks like our boy."

Walking along the side of the road with a bag tossed over his shoulder was none other than Zeke Varley. He hopefully held out his thumb until the truck drew nearer and he recognized it. For a few fleeting seconds he thought about running and then looked at his dark and bare surroundings and just stopped, turning to face the two men as they exited the truck with pistols drawn.

"Drop the bag." Matt shone the flashlight right into the man's eyes.

"God dammit! You're gonna blind me." He dropped the bag.

"Hands in the air, turn around real slow." Matt carefully approached as did George who continued to cover the foreman as the younger man holstered his weapon and began patting down Varley, removing a Ruger from his waistband. A quick search turned up no other weapons and he once again cuffed the man.

"You got no right to arrest me. I haven't done anything."

"We'll talk about that in a minute." He lead Varley back to the truck, putting him in the front seat as George climbed into the back, his pistol never straying from the back of the foreman's head. Matt climbed back up behind the wheel.

"Well, you've had a less than spectacular day, haven't you?" He turned slightly in the seat, his pistol now in his left hand and pointed at him.

"Go to hell."

"Seems to be your favorite phrase. So…" He watched the foreman for a minute. "You seem like you could use a little help." There was no reply. "I gotta give you credit. Don't know how in the hell you've managed to put up with Lynch for all this time. What is it? Like fifteen years or so?" Still there was no reply. "He sits his fat ass behind that desk and sends you out to do his dirty work. How many bodies have you gotten rid of for him?" The balding man moved his gaze to Matt.

"Don't know what you're talking about." His phone began ringing.

"Think about it. How many bodies have you put in that well?"

Varley's mouth dropped open. "How…?"

"I have my ways." He paused for a minute. "Let's face it Zeke: the only way you're not going to end up with a needle in your arm is to help us take down Lynch." He watched as the gears began to grind to life in the man's head. Varley's phone began ringing again. "We've already got one witness that's willing to testify to part of it. But with your help it would be sure and certain that the bastard gets what's coming to him."

"I don't know."

"Better do some quick thinking." Matt started the truck and pulled back out onto the interstate. "You're looking at federal charges."

"How do you figure that?" Once again the phone rang.

"Human trafficking." He glanced back over at Varley's profile in the lights from the dashboard. His shoulders were now sagging and his head was tucked down. "And then of course after you got Aguilar to dump that Chinese girl's body in Dallas, Lynch made you take him out."

"How in the hell do you know about this stuff?"

"I told you: I've got my ways." He stopped and let Varley stew for a couple of minutes while his phone began ringing again.

"What do I have to do?"

"Testify against Varley."

"I'm still going to end up in prison."

"Most likely. But you won't be on death row in Huntsville." Matt looked over to the foreman again, only seeing the back of his head as he stared out into the darkness. He then picked up his phone and made a call to LA. "Fibby, how would you like to visit Texas?"


	16. Chapter 16

**16 -Family Lines**

"Wake up. She's leaving." Tamara Placer elbowed her sleeping cameraman in the ribs. They had spent the last four hours in the parking lot of Francine Martinez's condo. He grunted and started the engine, yawning as he slipped out of the parking lot and onto South Main following the sheriff's personal SUV. In a couple of minutes it entered I-45 and then went east on I-10. "Three in the morning…" Placer drummed her fingers restlessly on the door of the car. "Where in the hell is she going at three in the morning?"

"Dunno…" The answer was punctuated by a loud yawn. "Crime scene, maybe? She is a cop."

The sheriff exited at the East Freeway Service Road a few minutes later and Placer smiled hatefully. "A cheap hotel? Really? Wait. Park here." She indicated the parking lot of the Burger Nerd that adjoined the property. "Hmmm...looks like whoever she's meeting is a tightwad…" There was an evil laugh. "That's Houston's truck!"

Martinez got out of her vehicle while on her cell phone and headed straight up the stairs. Three doors from the stairway the door opened and out walked Houston.

"Ha ha! We've got them!" The cameraman was recording the meeting as was Martinez with her cell phone. "I knew it!" The pair watched as Houston and Martinez talked for a couple of minutes and then went inside.

"Sheriff Francine Martinez, I'd like you to meet FBI Special Agent Alexander Bateaux." Matt took a seat in one of the straight back chairs.

"Agent Bateaux."

"Just call me Alex, please."

"Or you could call him Fibby. He answers to both." Houston chuckled as the agent shot him a dirty look.

"Chuck should be here in just a few minutes." Martinez glanced over at Varley who was stretched out on one of the beds, his right hand cuffed to the headboard. There was a knock at the door and Matt drew his pistol before approaching and looking through the peephole. He unlocked the door and admitted his friend.

"So this is where the party is, huh?" Wylie still had the rumpled look of someone who had been rousted from a good night's sleep.

"Wouldn't be my first choice." Matt clapped him on the shoulder. "Think you can babysit for a little while?"

"Sure. Where's the TV remote?"

"It's on the table over there. Doesn't work, though. But it's okay because the TV doesn't either."

"Great." He rolled his eyes and had a seat at the table.

"Be back in a little bit." Matt carefully opened the door and took a look around, then led the way outside. "Want to hit up the Burger Nerd? I kinda missed my supper."

"Fine. I could use some coffee." Martinez stifled a yawn as Bateaux followed them out and then down the stairs.

The three walked the short distance to the restaurant and after ordering, slid into a booth where Matt proceeded to pour hot sauce on his burger and fries, much to the discomfort of Bateaux who shook his head as he took a bite of cheeseburger. "So…" Houston swallowed and took a big slurp of Fizzy Pop.

"You've been very busy, _mon amie._ I spoke to the head of the Houston field office. Turns out they are very interested in any help that you might be able to give them."

"You told them that we have a couple of witnesses?" He was near to wiping out the first burger.

"I told them that there was one and possibly two. Do we know for sure that Varley is going to play ball?"

"I think he will."

"When you get done declaring war on the hot sauce bottle we need to have a chat with him." He looked disgusted as Houston now poured hot sauce onto the second burger.

"Gotta do something to stay awake." He took a large bite and looked over at Martinez who was staring out the window. "Something wrong?"

"I may be mistaken…" She lowered her voice. "But isn't that a camera lens pointing at us from that car?"

Bateaux casually stretched and looked out the window. "It's a camera all right."

"Bet it's Placer." Houston blew out a breath, then polished off the burger and began sliding from the booth. "The sooner we can get done here the better." They pretended not to notice the man as he continued to film them and went back to the room where Alex had a long talk with Varley.

Two hours later, Matt and Francine left the room and went down the stairs, got into their vehicles and drove away. Sure enough Placer and her cameraman were hot on their trail. Houston answered his phone as the sheriff called him. "Is it working?"

"Yup. She fell for it. Hang on, Alex is on the other line." He clicked over. "Did y'all make an escape, Fibby?"

"We did. George says he's going to catch a cab to get his car."

"Alright. Talk to you later, bud." He switched back to Francine and filled her in. "Hated to abandon him like that but I really didn't think the piranha would follow us if he was along for the ride."

"Probably not." She laughed. "Guess we're going to make another splash for her network."

"No doubt. Good thing I warned CJ ahead of time. I can only imagine how it's going to sound: Harris County Sheriff in seedy hotel room with multiple men." He laughed and then yawned. "I'm going home. Talk to you later." He split off at the next intersection, looking back in his mirror as Placer tried to decide which vehicle to follow and then chose Martinez.

Matt woke up around noon to the sounds of the kids coming into the kitchen for lunch. He hadn't even bothered to undress before laying down on the bed next to CJ when he had arrived home around six. Now he stripped and hit the shower, deciding to let the beard grow back since he was no longer at Quantico.

Twenty minutes later he was in the kitchen with his family when his phone rang. Noting the ID he went out onto the deck. "How's it goin', George?"

"You need to check the feed from Lynch's study. He's been on a rampage trying to find out exactly where Varley disappeared. I've been laughing my ass off all morning."

"Alright." He went back inside to the sounds of the twins and Catey pleading their case for not taking a nap. Once inside the study, he loaded up the feed on the computer and began watching, laughing himself as Lynch practically had a stomping temper tantrum. "We need to get the maid out of there as soon as the feds give us the nod. Poor lady. I think I would go home sick if I was her."

CJ maneuvered into the study with her crutches and eased down onto the loveseat. He quickly went to her and propped her leg up, closing the door afterward. "George, let me know if he does anything else - other than pop a blood vessel cussing, okay?"

"Will do." The call ended and Matt had a seat behind the desk.

"Look in the documents file for the family tree folder." CJ watched as he did. "Now click on the Mendoza line."

Matt began by first looking at the chart. His mother Carmen had two brothers, Fernando and Arturo. Diego was one of Fernando's sons. "And there's absolutely no doubt about this?" He looked back up at her.

"Nope. He's your cousin." She watched as he continued reading. "He apparently took after his father - who incidentally was the founder of Las Serpientes."

"But why in the hell would he be after me? Unless…" He thought back to when he had helped out the Border Patrol when two of their agents had been killed by members of the gang.

"When you helped out Oakley in Laredo before the twins were born."

"I don't get it, CJ." He went and looked out the window at the beautiful day, before turning back to her. "Why? He obviously doesn't care about his people. They get killed everyday doing his bidding. Why would that upset him so much?"

"Who knows?" She watched as he continued to mull it over.

His phone rang. "How ya doin', Fibby?" He listened to the reply, a surprised look coming over his face. "Already? Wow…" The agent responded and Matt looked to his wife. "Hang on a second…" He put the phone on speaker. "Okay, repeat that last part for CJ."

"Varley is singing like a bird. He agreed to do whatever time he gets under an assumed name at a secure facility."

"Wow! That's great!"

"So now I need to ask if Houston wants to be in on the takedown of Lynch? The warrant should be coming through shortly." The agent listened to the silence on the other end of the line.

CJ looked at her husband. "Well…" She sighed. "I guess you've more than earned it, hon. It's up to you."

"You sure?"

She nodded.

"Where do you want to meet?"

"At the field office."

"I'll be there ASAP. Thanks, Alex."

"See you soon." The call was ended.

"See to it that you wear that vest." CJ gave him a smile. "I know how hard you've worked for this day. I can't very well spoil it for you."

"Love you." He leaned down and the pair shared a kiss. "I'll call you as soon as it's done."


	17. Chapter 17

**17 - Takedown**

The flight from Houston to Dallas was less than an hour and Matt and Alex met up with other agents at Love Field and made the short trip to Donovan Lynch's ranch just outside of Plano. Four vehicles caravanned to the main gate of the ranch where they were met with less than cordial attitudes. Lynch refused to open the gates and all of the cowboys in view disappeared into the bunkhouse.

Matt grinned and slid out of the SUV he was riding in, walked up to the security panel and after only a momentary pause, punched a few keys. The gates slid open and he rejoined the agents who lost no time in getting to the house. All entryways were locked and the team had to use a battering ram to make their way into the house. Lynch was nowhere to be found.

Houston stepped out through the doors of Lynch's office and looked down at the barn a short distance away. With Alex and the other agents, he proceeded down to the building. Once again, it was locked. Matt removed his pistol, fired a shot into the lock on the door, and entered.

The group began clearing the building and as one agent found another locked door and was working to open it, Matt caught sight of Lynch sneaking out the other end. He and Alex took off after the man who was running back up to the house.

Seeing the pair after him, Lynch fired three shots in quick succession, none of which hit either man. He entered his office and Matt and Alex approached the door.

"Lynch, drop the gun and come on out." Matt's voice rang out.

"Go to hell, Houston!"

"You must be a bad influence. Varley kept telling me the same thing." He looked at Alex who was stifling a laugh. Three more shots rang out. "You know, you're just dropping the property value when you do that. Wonder how much the government will get for your house after you're convicted?" Nodding to Alex, he slipped into the office where their quarry was pouring himself a drink.

"You're no different than me." Lynch's mouth twisted into an evil smile.

"Keep telling yourself that."

"Look at it. I'm rich. You're rich. I've got a lot of folks working for me. So do you. I've got power. You've got power. "

"I don't have people killing for me and hiding bodies." Matt moved further into the study, his pistol trained on the older man.

"You've got armed men on your ranch. Don't tell me that they wouldn't kill for you."

"Only out of necessity. And they're armed to protect my family."

Lynch moved slowly toward the desk and continued the conversation. "And as far as being rich, hell - you're richer than me."

"I worked hard for it. And I don't mind sharing."

Lynch sat down behind the desk while Matt watched his every move intently. He knew better than to let his guard down for even a second. "And you're exercising your power right now. If it wasn't for that badge you got hooked on your belt you wouldn't be in my house."

"I didn't ask for the badge."

"No, but you sure as hell didn't turn it down either, did you? Can't tell me that hasn't helped you out."

"Lynch, the biggest difference between us is that I try to help people, not hurt them."

"It's just a matter of time before all those high principles you hang onto are nothing but a memory, Houston."

Matt could see his hand moving underneath the desk and knew that most likely he was now pointing the pistol at him. Shaking his head, he spoke again. "Put the gun down. I'm taking you in."

The man suddenly stood with the gun pointed at his own head. "Naw, I'm not going in with you. I'm going to pull this trigger."  
"We all go down that road sometime, Lynch. Only difference is some folks get to choose when and some don't. End result is the same, though."

"Well, I'm one that gets to choose." Lynch gave Matt a greasy smile and with a shaking hand pushed the pistol to his temple and pulled the trigger. The only sound was that of a hollow click. He brought the gun down and looked at it in disbelief as Matt moved toward him.

"Guess you don't get to choose. Should've counted the shots. But I guess you're not much for doing things yourself, are you?" He snatched the pistol out of Lynch's hand, pushing him against the wall as he pulled out the cuffs.

Once Lynch was loaded into the back of one of the SUVs Alex and Matt met up with the other agents who had found the Chinese girls who had been held captive in the barn. Ambulances were called to ferry them to the hospital for evaluation and even though none of the agents spoke Chinese they easily understood what the women kept repeating: thank you.

A van was brought in to haul the remaining cowboys in for questioning and as he leaned against the SUV, Matt called CJ. "Hey, Lil Mama. We got him." He went on to tell her about the women who had been found and how Lynch's plan for suicide hadn't panned out.

"It's a terrible shame," she said. "The poor man can't even count to six." Both laughed and although he had always loved the sound of her laughter it was even more special to him now since he hadn't heard too much of in the last few days.

"I love you." He turned and looked down the driveway as movement got his attention. "Aw, hell."

"Well, that's just lovely, hon. You really know how to make a girl feel special."

"There are reporters at the gate. Hope the piranha isn't one of them."

"No, I believe she missed that scoop. She's doing a live report from outside Francine's office about all the immoral activity last night."

Matt burst into laughter and was having to hold onto the vehicle to keep from falling over. He wiped his eyes as Bateaux approached looking confused. "Oh, Lordy! I'll call you later and let you know when we'll be leaving."

"Okay, baby. Love you."

"Love you, too. Bye." He hung and after explaining to Alex why he had been in tears, the pair joined the other agents in searching the house while they waited for forensic teams to be brought in to search the grounds, including the old well, for bodies that Varley had admitted to hiding for Lynch.


	18. Chapter 18

**18 - Wrapping Up**

"So long story short, they found nothing else suspicious around the tree or in the barn." Francine Martinez sat down behind her desk and took a sip of coffee.

Matt inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, there's some good news."

"If Ben or anybody else should happen to find anything else interesting just tell them to call Chuck and he'll let me know."

"I appreciate it."

"And congratulations on the Lynch deal."

"Thanks." Matt pulled in behind the house and shut off the engine of the white Ford pickup. It had been a long couple of days and he was looking forward to spending some time with CJ and the kids. He went up on the porch and was instantly set on by Vinny, Mike, and Catey. With his daughter riding on his shoulders and a son in each arm, he entered the kitchen amidst much laughter. CJ was sitting at one of the kitchen chairs talking to Madre Rosa and as soon as he could shake loose of the kids, he was giving her a kiss and big hug.

"Why don't y'all run on and play?" He spied Sheila coming out of the laundry room and the nanny herded the youngsters out onto their playground as he took a seat at the table after pouring himself a tall glass of lemonade. "Phew!"

"Anything new?" CJ reached over and took his free hand into her own.

"Ugh…" He downed more of the drink and shook his head. "I tell you what: that man is just pure evil. The translator for the Chinese ladies was just about to puke hearing what he had done to them." More lemonade disappeared before he spoke again. "But…" A large smile covered his face. "He just spilled the beans on Lockwood and the Cicero arson deal. The only downside to that is that I need to head back to LA tomorrow."

"Have you told the Fire Marshal?"

"Yup - on my way home. He says he's going to buy me a beer." They laughed. "Now, what I was wondering…"

"I'm just going to stay here."

"Answered that question." He squeezed her hand. "But are you sure you can trust me out there in Hollyweird by my little lonesome?"

"Since you were at a cheap hotel with Francine right under my very nose I don't think it makes much difference." All three cracked up.

"But…" She looked up into his eyes, her mood becoming serious again. "You need to remember that Lynch is only one of the people looking to have you killed. You also have Perrier, Barkowski, and your wonderful cousin Diego."

Madre Rosa spoke up. "I can't understand why your own cousin would be after you. You didn't even know anything about him."

"Don't know." Matt was serious now as well. "I'm going to have a talk with Michael when I get back and fill him in on all of this. It sure would be nice if we could get Lynch to turn on the others. But even if he did, we would likely play hell trying to catch Perrier. Still it would be a start."

"He might do it, hon. Have a little faith."

The pair shared a kiss, then made their way out onto the back porch swing where they watched the kids playing and enjoyed the Texas sunset.


End file.
